


fiction is more familiar than truth

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Jake!bot, M/M, Onesided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-06
Updated: 2011-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-26 23:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a really, really shitty idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fiction is more familiar than truth

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by http://cottonbun.tumblr.com/post/13563366072/something-from-todays-ls-thank-you-kindly-for

You try to keep your first name to yourself.

You try to keep a lot of things to yourself, honestly. It gives you an air of mystery, an air of _nope too busy for you be back later, suckers._ It’s why your older bro got you an auto responder, and even if you don’t like to admit it, he generally knows more about being cool than you do. You wonder who he learned it all from?

(Probably someone _really fucking awesome_.)

But sometimes you sit and watch Jake bicker with your auto responder for a few minutes, or as long as he can stand talking to it. Sometimes you respond back—pretend to be the program. It’s modeled in your typing style and personality, after all. It’s not hard. There’s such a thing as copy-paste at your disposal when he asks the thing (or you, but he doesn’t have to know that) to tell him about the auto responder’s features. He thinks he’s being so _clever_ , doing shit like that.

One day Jake sends you a picture. Just one picture. Nothing to be excited over, only you are.

He looks just as hopelessly nerdy as you imagined he would, decked in what you imagine he thinks of as ‘high grade explorer’s gear’, and he’s holding up some sort of plant that you don’t really pay attention to because you’re too busy examining his toothy smile, and holy shit, back up.

GT: I think ive made a new discovery!  
GT: Not that youd care, of course.

You study him just a bit more, and an idea strikes you. It’s a shit idea. You shouldn’t do it.

GT: …  
GT: Well, i admit at that I least expected some response.

You realize you’ve been staring at the picture for far too long and that you should probably reply.

 _It seems,_ you begin to type, and your ‘auto responder’ saves you from having to say anything at all.

:

After turning the real deal on and leaving Jake to it, you dig around your room for some spare parts; they tend to turn up in the most random places. You don’t even remember putting most of them where you find them. But it turns out that you have most of what you need, and that’s all that matters.

This is a really, really shitty idea. And yet…

You spend more time working on this than you have on anything. Promising yourself that you’ll take it apart as soon as you’re done, and maybe after admiring it for a while (c’mon, you used up this much energy to put the thing together, so you at least owe it to yourself to _look_ at it), can only go so far.

God, this is such a shitty idea. What are you thinking? What kind of creepy asshole builds a robot that looks just like their best online pal?

Hours later you’ve still got his picture open for a reference and the basic framework for the machine all set up.

You pause for a moment and then shove that shit in the closet where it belongs. After a brief hesitation you delete the picture from your computer, and then after an even briefer hesitation retrieve it from the recycling bin, which was apparently created to aid you in giving in to your darkest desires.

 _Fuck._

:

Striders are Striders and once they start something, they don’t back down. You will see this to the end for that one reason. Then you can sleep easy, or however that dumbshit saying goes.

It’s so pathetically easy to convince yourself of that you think even a drunk-off-her-ass Lalonde could see through it.

Still, it’s a reason that you latch onto like a fucking remora to a shark. The robot’s done within the next three days, and you’ve been just antisocial enough for your bro to start leaving jugs of apple juice and boxes of poptarts outside your door. You hate apple juice, but whatever.

You sit yourself down and you just _look._

 __There’s obvious imperfections in this Jake, since he’s fake and not real, but you let your fingers trail gently over a cold metal jaw and picture it in your mind. He’d probably give you one of those toothy grins, and tilt his head just so, right into your touch. You allow yourself to be a sappy romantic for just a moment because dammit, this is Jake you’re thinking of, and there’s no one around to judge you for it.

Your gloved hand slides down to rest on the Jake’s shoulder as you continue to look, silent and careful as your creation itself. You still need to put in the programming for this model to be mobile and receptive to outside stimuli.

It won’t be the same as it could be, _would_ be, and you’re not sure you really want to.

For now you look and you imagine, and this is something you determine you will forever and always keep to yourself.


End file.
